


Duels of Honor

by audreyii_fic



Series: The Sparrowkeet Series [14]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyii_fic/pseuds/audreyii_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sozin's Comet is approaching, and people have the power to shape their own destinies. Sparrowkeet!verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

  
_**Duels of Honor** _   
_(Part One)_

* * *

_The coming of honor or disgrace must be a reflection of one's inner power. **  
-Xun Zi**_

__

* * *

 

Aang is gone when they wake up.

They search for hours. They track his steps out to the sea. They comb the house, the beach, the town, every inch of Ember Island. The Avatar is nowhere to be found, and the argument that results is less than mild.

"We have to find him. He could be in trouble. He could _need_ us."

"Oh, please."

"Look, it doesn't matter. We have to go."

"And do what, exactly?"

"Meet with Dad and the fleet. Get ready for the attack. Aang might be doing his own thing, but the rest of us have to be there to help the others."

"It's suicide without Twinkletoes."

"We've got to try. And we can still save Omashu."

"For how long? My father's going to turn around as soon as he's done with Ba Sing Se-"

"Well, then, maybe we should just kidnap my sister _instead_ and-"

" _I didn't_ -"

"SHUT UP!" Katara shouts from the stone steps. "All of you just _shut up!_ "

An embarrassed silence falls over the yard, and silence is the best thing Katara can imagine. She's sick of the fighting and stress and constantly changing plans. Sometimes it feels like losing to Ozai would be better than this endless uncertainty.

Now Aang is missing. They're almost out of time.

Katara looks up to find three pairs of eyes on her - the fourth pair staring sightlessly into the distance. They are waiting for her to pick a side. Somewhere on this journey she turned into the fixer, the referee, the mother, the-

She glances at Zuko.

The _something_.

It is best not to dwell on that. "Let's go to the rendezvous point," Katara says, standing up. "Aang's probably already there waiting for us."

Almost everyone nods.

The last of the bags are loaded - food and weapons only, they're not going to need anything else from here on - but Zuko waits stiffly on the other side of the courtyard. Katara walks over to him. "We have to go," she says under her breath. "Aang will be there. Don't worry."

"He ran off, Katara." His words are short; his focus is all on the people in the sky bison's saddle. "He couldn't handle it and he ran."

" _No._ Aang's not like that."

"So why isn't he here?"

"He must have had something he needed to do."

"Such as?"

Katara doesn't have the patience for this. "I don't _know_ , okay? But he'll come back. He _has_ to."

Zuko looks down at her with some messy combination of fury and loss. "Just because people _have_ to come back," he says, "doesn't mean they _will_."

She does not know what to say in response.

 

* * *

 

Aang is not at the rendezvous point.

Neither is Iroh.

Hakoda's frown pulls unfamiliar lines around his mouth; Katara is quite certain they weren't there three years ago. "If the Avatar and General Iroh aren't with you, then where are they?"

No one has an answer. Even Toph looks grim now.

The wide sea stretches beyond the edge of the cliff, and two dozen purple sails cut into the orange of the setting sun. Those sails might be all that stand between the Fire Lord and the rest of the world.

Katara's hand seeks Zuko's - then she catches the expression on Sokka's face. She had asked Sokka not to tell their father about... everything, and after over an hour of reasoning, cajoling, and flat-out begging, he'd finally agreed to keep his mouth shut. At least until after the comet has come and gone.

But it is best not to push her luck.

Katara drops her hand and steps away from Zuko, who doesn't seem to have noticed. He's busy staring out at the purple sails, too.

 

* * *

 

She finds herself cooking. Normally she doesn't mind - she took on that responsibility willingly, after all - but there's a difference between fixing a stew for a few close friends and supervising a meal for an entire camp. The warriors seem to assume that dinner will be provided without any of their assistance, just because a Water Tribe woman is there. Katara half expects them to drop off their dirty clothes to be washed and mended.

As she stirs the soup, she thinks of the Fire Nation women she's seen: in uniform, running shops, drinking and shouting and laughing. Bringing down cities.

She wonders what would happen if someone told Azula to go cook while the men talked.

"What's so funny?" Zuko asks, glancing up from the fire, which has gone from blazing flames to perfect roasting embers with just a few gestures.

Katara bites back her giggles. "Nothing." At his skeptical look, she adds, "I'll tell you another time."

There is an audible huff from Sokka - followed by a grunt as Toph elbows him in the ribs.

The group around their little fire is subdued as they eat, but even subdued, it's nice to have everyone back again. It feels right to have Haru and Teo sitting next to Suki, and for Pipsqueak and the Duke to be chatting with Toph.

But no Aang.

It is Suki who finally says, "So... what now?"

Katara is pleased to see her father look to Sokka, who pokes his chopsticks at an empty bowl and stares thoughtfully out over the rest of the camp. "You're _sure_ Sifu Iroh isn't coming?" he asks Hakoda.

Hakoda shakes his head, looking annoyed. "Iroh didn't tell me _anything_."

Sokka sighs. "Okay. Well... we have to do what we came to do. Thanks to Zuko's plans-" the words are sour "-we at least know what's going to happen. Everyone here will intercept the navy and protect Omashu. A few of us will take Appa to find the air fleet and try to sabotage as much as possible before..."

"Before we're all killed," Zuko finishes shortly.

Katara groans under her breath as Sokka narrows his eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion," Sokka growls.

"It's not an opinion," Zuko snaps, "it's a _fact_. If you intercept the air fleet on a _bison_ you'll get blasted out of the sky. There won't even be time to jump."

"That's why we'll do all we can _before_ then," Sokka shoots back.

Katara tries not to get sick in the hush that follows.

"Twinkletoes is coming back," Toph says after a few moments. "And so is Gramps. You all are getting your ponytails in a knot over nothing."

"But Gramps- uh, _Uncle_ doesn't know that Aang has run off."

"He hasn't _run off_." If Katara is sure of anything, she's sure of that. "Just because we don't know where he is or what he's doing doesn't mean he's abandoned us."

"If he has-" Zuko cringes slightly under the heat of Katara's glare, and repeats with emphasis, " _If_ he has, then we need Uncle to stop whatever he's planning to do and go fight my father instead. He's the only one who can."

There's a long, stunned silence.

"Wait." Haru blinks multiple times. "If General Iroh can fight Ozai, why hasn't he done it already? Why hasn't that been the plan from the _beginning?_ "

Zuko rubs his nose. Katara notices how hollow his face is around the scar, and wonders when he's last had a proper night of sleep. "It's the Avatar's destiny to defeat the Fire Lord," Zuko admits. "But Uncle might stand a chance. And if we all help him-"

"We can't abandon everyone else." Sokka makes a wide gesture at the Water Tribe men eating their dinners. "We can't just forget about the air fleet."

"I didn't say we should!"

"Then what _were_ you saying?"

"If you hadn't _interrupted_ -"

"Boys," Hakoda says, glancing between Zuko and Sokka with obvious puzzlement. "Calm down."

Katara wonders if anyone in camp has the ingredients for a Spark Bomb. She could use a drink.

"There's only one thing to do." Zuko's voice takes on the firmness of a crown prince who has made his final decision. "I have to go find Uncle."

Sokka is clearly unimpressed. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there's a whole world to search and only a few days to do it. Sifu Iroh's not gonna be _that_ easy to find on foot, even if he _is_ a big guy."

"I know someone who knows how to locate people," Zuko says. "And I'll go on Appa."

"Wait a minute-"

"Then how are _we_ supposed to-"

The smoke from Zuko's sigh makes Katara cough. "Haru, the war balloon's still working, right?"

Haru nods. "It's hidden behind a rise near here."

"Good. Then you all can take _that_. The Fire Nation's a lot less likely to notice one of their own ships joining them then they are a giant white hairball."

Appa's rumble is indignant.

"That sounds good to me," Katara jumps in. The sooner Zuko and Sokka are apart, the better - and come to think of it, Aang could even be with Iroh. He could be trying to break through his firebending block this very minute. That would be wonderful.

Though a note would have been nice.

Sokka looks like he's trying to come up with some objection; Katara resists the urge to warn him that his face will stick in that scowl if he's not careful. But finally he humphs and pokes a stick at the fire. "Fine," he says. "You go find Iroh. The rest of us will get ready for battle."

It's the last dinner they'll spend together, then.

Katara makes herself eat, even though she's not hungry.

 

* * *

 

The stars are only beginning to fade when Katara sneaks out of her tent and tiptoes across the wet morning grass. Zuko starts in surprise as she approaches - then glares as she tosses her sack into Appa's saddle. "You're not coming," he says.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're _not_."

Katara completely ignores his livid expression as she fists her hands in warm, shaggy fur and hoists herself up. "You're planning to find General Iroh and then help him fight the Fire Lord."

"That's right."

"Well, while you're watching Iroh's back," she says loftily, "someone has to watch _yours_."

Zuko has a look on his face, one that's ridiculously easy to read. Katara knows he's wondering how much time it would take to yank her off the sky bison and force her backward with fire until he can take off.

Appa turns to the Prince and issues a low, warning growl.

Katara smirks. "You're outvoted, Zuko."

Zuko glowers at them both... then sighs. "Fine," he grumbles, climbing into position behind Appa's horns. "Let's get out of here before your idiot brother tries to kill me."

"Don't worry," Katara says. " _I_ leave notes."

 

* * *

 

> Sokka,
> 
> I wasn't kidnapped.
> 
> Good luck against the fleet. Be careful.
> 
> Love,  
>  Katara
> 
> PS. DON'T TELL DAD.

 

* * *

 

To Katara's extreme annoyance, Zuko refuses to divulge where they're going. This means she can't drive. When she points out that that will only exhaust him, he snaps that she needs the sleep more than he does. She almost throws her waterskin at the back of his head.

They're both irritable. And tired. And maybe a little afraid.

By the time the noon summer sun beats down Zuko's chin is dropping to his chest; twice he nearly falls off Appa's head. Katara has had enough. She wraps two ropes of water around his shoulders and yanks him into the saddle before he's even fully conscious.

He wakes up when he lands on her, though.

Katara twists from underneath his surprised form and slides down to grab the reins before he can object. They bicker for a few minutes, then Zuko reluctantly instructs her to keep heading northeast for the rest of the afternoon. He's asleep before they pass the next cloud bank.

Katara tries not to think about the familiar feel of his weight.

Her body had missed him long before the rest of her did.

 

* * *

 

The obviously disreputable bar is full of huge, unsavory types. Katara doesn't get intimidated quickly or easily, but she does a swift mental survey of every glass of water in the room, just in case. There's already a fight breaking out by one of the tables. "And the reason you've brought me to this seedy Earth Kingdom tavern is _what_ now?" Katara asks suspiciously.

Zuko points at the fight. The fight involving a tall woman with long hair. "June."

Katara's already bad mood takes a sudden turn for the worse.

They pick their way through the increasingly rowdy crowd, and Katara doesn't failed to notice how all the men in the room seem to be aware of June's every movement. Katara has _never_ failed to notice that. Even Zuko stares as, from a sitting position, the obnoxiously beautiful bounty hunter kicks a drunk in the chin.

Not that that bothers a Master Waterbender.

She crosses her arms under her breasts with a sniff.

June looks up as they approach the table, and rolls her eyes. Or rolls the eye not covered by her hair, anyway. Katara wonders bitterly if maybe she only _has_ one eye. "Oh, great," June says. "It's Prince Pouty." Zuko makes a face - which _is_ pouty - and she sips from her steaming cup before continuing, "Where's your creepy grandpa?"

"He's my _uncle_. And he's not here. That's what I need to talk to you about."

"Oh, is it." June glances at Katara. "I see you worked things out with your girlfriend."

Zuko's good cheek positively _glows_ red. "She's not my girlfriend," he mutters.

"Just as well." The bounty hunter smirks at them as she moves to take a swig. "She's still too pretty for you."

A second later, a giant ice cube slides out of June's cup and hits her in the nose. "Sorry," Katara says sweetly as the ice falls to the floor and shatters. "Were you drinking that?"

"Sheesh. I was only teasing."

 

* * *

 

Searching for Iroh does not motivate June. The end of the world catches her attention, but still does not get her up from her seat. It is when Katara turns the woman's second drink to ice, and then the third, that June reluctantly agrees to turn her shirshu on to Iroh's scent.

As Zuko holds up one of Iroh's old sandals, Katara considers for a moment suggesting that they track Aang instead. She sets the idea aside. Aang will come back on his own. Katara has faith.

The ghoulish tracker animal is the fastest thing Katara has ever seen; there are several times over the course of the next twenty-four hours that she is _sure_ Appa will be left behind. But the sky bison has reserves Katara never even imagined; the clouds part as he speeds through them, and she and Zuko are forced to lie on their bellies for fear of being blown off into open air.

The wind roars in their ears and it's too loud to speak. Katara has nothing to do but reflect on what is happening, on what has happened, on what will happen. She wonders if Zuko is doing the same. It's hard to tell. His eyes stay closed; he has never liked flying, even at reasonable velocities. Katara can't read his expression beyond 'airsick'.

She attempts, once more, to reconcile the person who chased them across the world with the person who touched her on red cushions with the person who trained Aang on Ember Island. She still can't do it. It makes her head hurt to try. The three Zukos stay compartmentalized, and Katara hides her face against the soft cushion of the saddle.

 

* * *

 

The endless stretch of tall stone blends into the night sky, but Katara can still see the great rent in the side, wide enough for an army to march through. Azula brought the walls down.

"We're going to Ba Sing Se," she informs Zuko, who still hasn't looked up.

A feeble whimper is his only response.

Appa lands a few minutes later and immediately rolls onto his side, panting for breath; Katara and Zuko tumble out of the saddle in a heap. Katara jams her elbow against a rock and curses. Zuko throws up.

June hops down from her mount as though she's done nothing more than take a leisurely jaunt through the countryside. The shirshu doesn't even look winded. "Your uncle's somewhere that way," says June, gesturing in towards the farmland crushed by soldiers' boots. "Nyla's getting twitchy, so he can't be too far."

Katara nods. "Thank you," she says.

The older woman doesn't acknowledge the gratitude. "I didn't do it for free," she reminds them.

"You'll get paid as soon as we find General Iroh," says Katara. She is lying through her teeth; Katara actually has no idea whether or not Iroh will have the kind of money they have promised. She doubts it. Still, a little dishonesty isn't that important when weighed against the end of the world.

June gets an ugly look on her face. "You better not have made a promise you couldn't keep." Her voice takes on a slight Fire Nation accent. "It wouldn't be honorable."

"I keep my promises," Zuko snarls, still on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Katara does not understand the Fire Nation's obsession with honor. She doesn't think she ever will.

 

* * *

 

It is too late to start searching, too dark to set up their tents. June snuggles against Nyla's flank; Katara and Zuko curl on Appa's wide tail.

The strong, cold wind reminds Katara just how far north the Impenetrable City really is. At first she tries to draw warmth from the fur of the sky bison - but before long she finds herself edging closer and closer to the source of heat by her side, until she's inches from Zuko's body. A Firebender is better than a sealskin sleeping bag.

Yue shines overhead. Katara realizes Zuko is awake and quietly watching her movements. "You should sleep," she whispers.

"I know," he says.

There's no point in asking again. He _would_ sleep, she suspects, if she came a little bit nearer... but they've never done that. A few times she's drifted off while he was there - when she was worn out by their 'sparring', when she'd cried herself to exhaustion after Yon Ra - but that's different than letting it happen on purpose.

Before she has too long to ponder this, however, there's a rustling noise - and June is up in a flash, whips in hand. "Someone's coming," she says tersely.

Katara is hardly to her feet when they are surrounded by a ring of orange flame. Appa howls in terror and she's got her waterskin uncorked and Zuko moves into a grounded stance, his back against hers.

Shadows above them, playing against the light of the fire. A familiar snorting laugh. "Well, look who's here!"

Katara's mouth falls open. Zuko swears. And June snaps a whip against King Bumi's head, which puts a stop to his laughter in a hurry.

 

* * *

 

Apparently all old people know each other, which is disturbing on more than a few levels. The fact that _her_ old master has met _Sokka's_ old master has met _Aang's_ old master... "Do you think they talk about us?" she whispers to Zuko. It's an utterly terrifying prospect.

Zuko doesn't answer. Tension rolls off of his body in waves. Bumi, however, feels the need to say: "Of course! What do you think we _do_ when we're not playing pai sho? Knit?"

"Right," Katara mutters. It's too late to fly away.

Nyla strains against June's bonds, trying to speed their little party towards what amounts to a small village of tents. "So the kid's creepy uncle _is_ here," June says.

"General Iroh is a Grand Master of the White Lotus," says Master Pakku, giving the bounty hunter a severe look. "Speak with respect, woman."

Katara thinks that marriage has not changed Pakku very much. Still, perhaps he is more polite in front of Gran-Gran; she can't imagine her grandmother would allow a comment like that to pass without a solid tongue-lashing.

The idea of Gran-Gran giving Master Pakku a _tongue-lashing_ is the most horrible image Katara has ever had. She quickly distracts herself by asking for an explanation of Bumi's escape from Omashu, which leads to a general discussion of how everyone spent the Day of Black Sun. June's tale of her capture of five wanted firebenders during the eight minute eclipse is unanimously declared to be the most impressive.

Zuko remains silent.

 

* * *

 

Katara is put in a tent intended for a White Lotus member who has yet to arrive, and as she drops her meager sack next to her bed she considers that this is a significantly more comfortable set up than Appa's tail. Still, she is restless, despite the late hour. She wanders the camp for awhile. There are surprisingly few benders, all things considered; she thinks Sokka would have fit in nicely, and makes a mental note to tell him about it when she sees him again. If she sees him again.

Of course she will see him again.

She spies Zuko kneeling outside a large tent in the center of camp, his head bowed. It does not take much insight to guess who must lie behind the canvas flaps.

Katara approaches on soft feet. "Are you okay?"

" _No_ ," he snaps. "I'm not okay."

It was a stupid question, really. Katara kneels down beside him, and he turns his face away. "It'll be fine," she says.

He shakes his head. "My uncle hates me," he whispers. "I know it."

"He doesn't hate you." They have had this conversation before; _everyone_ has had this conversation before. But no matter how many times they say it, the truth never sinks into the Fire Prince's head. "I _talked to him_. All he wanted was to know if you were okay. He defended you to Aang, to Sokka, to my dad... he _loves_ you, Zuko."

"Exactly," Zuko says. His robes are dirty from the mud, but so are Katara's. "He loved me and supported me in every way he could... and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?"

"But you're sorry for what you did, right?"

"More sorry than I've ever been about anything in my entire life." He pauses, then glances sideways at Katara. "Well, almost," he amends.

"Then he'll forgive you," Katara says firmly. " _I_ forgave you."

She did. It was difficult, it took a long time, and there are all kinds of things it does and doesn't mean... but she forgave him.

A moment later Zuko gets to his feet and steps forward into Iroh's tent with a heavy exhale, and Katara heads back to bed with a feeling of melancholy satisfaction; they are two emotions she never thought would go together, but somehow, with Zuko, they always fit like puzzle pieces.

 

* * *

 

In the morning Katara is not surprised to see General Iroh and Prince Zuko sharing tea - nor is she surprised to see that Zuko looks happier than he has in weeks. What _does_ surprise her, however, is that Iroh leaps to his feet with shocking agility for an old man and hugs her so fiercely she nearly falls over. "Um, good morning, General," she chokes out as the the air is squeezed from her lungs.

"It is _wonderful_ to see you again, my dear." The embrace doesn't lessen for a moment, and Katara gives Zuko a slightly desperate look over Iroh's shoulder. Zuko hits his face with his palm.

Over the next half hour Iroh quizzes Katara on the most random details: her favorite tea, her favorite color, whether she likes her komodo hen eggs fried or scrambled, if she thought the Fire Nation weather was too warm, and a thousand and one other things of no particular relevance. Katara tries to answer though her mounting confusion while Zuko sinks lower and lower, like he's trying to melt into the ground and disappear.

Finally, as Iroh takes a breath - having asked the urgent question of whether Katara prefers swimming in oceans or rivers - Zuko bursts out, "Uncle, none of this is important!"

"Of course it is," says the Dragon of the West, innocently wide-eyed. "I haven't gotten her opinion on fire lilies yet."

Katara blinks. "They're all right, I guess."

"How is knowing what kind of _flowers_ she likes going to help with anything?"

Iroh's expression manages to be appalled, amused, and pitying all at the same time. "Oh, Prince Zuko, you have so much to learn."

Zuko turns sea prune purple. "I _meant_ ," he says with slow, exaggerated patience, "help with the _battle_. You're the only person other than the Avatar who might defeat the Father Lord, so _try_ to focus."

Katara does not miss his slip of the tongue, and she can tell Iroh didn't either; all merriment is gone as he sips his tea. "I cannot fight him, Zuko," he says gently.

"You _can_ ," Zuko insists. "With Katara and I there to help-"

"No, nephew, there is no time for that. You must leave for the Capital as soon as possible." Iroh's words are grave. "Ozai has declared himself Phoenix King, and Azula is about to be coronated the new Fire Lord. If you don't challenge your sister's claim before that happens, it will take civil war to remove her from the throne."

A shiver of fear runs through Katara at the thought of the Princess in full control of fleets, armies, benders... even if battle didn't spread beyond the archipelago, the Fire Nation would be destroyed. Katara has seen too much of the land and people to be anything but horrified at the thought. "We can't let that happen," she says to Zuko. "She has to be stopped."

Zuko looks as sick as she feels. "Absolutely," he agrees. Then he turns back to his uncle. "Okay, we won't be here, then. But that doesn't mean you can't challenge my father. You have all these people on your side-"

But Iroh shakes his head. "Even if I did defeat Ozai," he says, "and I don't know that I could... it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as just more senseless violence - a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is for the _Avatar_ to defeat the Fire Lord."

It's no more or less than what Katara expected Iroh to say, but Zuko shivers visibly with anger. "And if the Avatar doesn't come back?"

"Aang _is_ coming back," Katara interjects.

"You don't know that! _None_ of you know that!"

"Sozin's Comet is arriving, and our destinies are upon us." Iroh sets aside his cup and regards Zuko levelly. "You and I both trained that boy. He is made of stronger stuff than you acknowledge. Aang will face his destiny as well."

The flames in the camp fire blaze for a moment - then Zuko storms off, disappearing out of sight between the tents.

Iroh sighs. "Don't worry," he says. "Prince Zuko has... _difficulties_ with his temper from time to time."

"I know," she says, a touch sharper than she intended. Katara finds herself surprisingly annoyed that anyone, even Iroh, would imply they know more about the Fire Prince than her. She pokes at her bowl of porridge and eggs, torn between wanting to go after Zuko and wanting to leave him until he gets his ridiculous sulk out of the way. He may not like Aang, but Zuko ought to have more faith - in her judgment, if nothing else. The Avatar will return, and he will defeat Ozai.

The other side of the world is different matter entirely. "General Iroh-"

"Please," Iroh says warmly, "call me Uncle."

Katara opens her mouth, then closes it and wonders _what_ on earth Zuko and Iroh talked about last night. "Uncle," she says, "about Princess Azula... she's already too powerful." She struggles to articulate her concerns without implying doubt that she doesn't have. "With the comet, I'm not sure she'll be much easier to defeat than Ozai."

There is a long pause - and then Iroh's smile is delighted. "You are worried about my nephew's safety?"

Her cheeks turn hot. "Of course I am," she says quickly. "He's part of our group. And he's a _great_ bender, but it's going to be tough." She doesn't share the foundation of her concern: Zuko, thrown across the deck of Azula's ship, and the hour afterward that Katara spent knitting together his cracked ribs. It's all she can see when she thinks of the Fire Prince and Princess in combat.

"He will need your help," says Iroh.

"I know that." She knows that. "Master Pakku trained me himself-"

"I am not talking about bending." Out of nowhere, there is an intensity in Iroh that Katara hasn't seen before. It fills her with unease. " _Bending_ has never been the edge Azula holds over Zuko, and that is not where he will need you most."

It's a cryptic response. Katara wants to ask more questions - but before she can say a word, she is sidetracked with a series of questions about what sort of music she enjoys on the tsungi horn.

 

* * *

 

She goes searching for Zuko and runs into the side of a bear instead.

King Kuei is delighted to see her, and without much prompting from Katara starts happily describing all his adventures since the fall of the Earth Kingdom. The importance of his presence at the retaking of Ba Sing Se - for fear that otherwise the invasion will be seen as nothing more than the final triumph of the Dragon of the West - means that he is traveling with the White Lotus forces. Katara fears for his enthusiasm.

"You know it's going to be very dangerous," she tells the Earth King, again. "So... make sure you're careful."

"He'll be fine." June comes up behind them, loading her shirshu with packs. She looks out of temper even by her standards. "I'm keeping an eye on him - for a price." She glares at Kuei. " _Anything I want_ from the palace," she growls. "First pick."

Kuei nods so hard his hat almost falls off. "Yep. Anything. It's all yours." Katara notes the love-lorn admiration in his words.

Maybe this means people will start gossiping about _them_ instead of _her_.

Or maybe not. Zuko appears from behind a tent, rubbing the back of his neck and looking shamefaced. Katara smiles at him - at least his pout didn't last too long, all things considered - and he gives her a half-smile back. A moment later a paper packet drops into Katara's hands.

"Take that," June says dryly, hopping onto Nyla as Kuei climbs awkwardly onto Bosco. "And try not to get into too much trouble, or it's _you_ they'll be hiring me to hunt down. Again."

The packet is full of black dragon root.

Katara stalks off with thin lips and narrowed eyes, and everyone has the sense to get out of her way.

 

* * *

 

By noon Appa is loaded and they are ready to head west - to face their destinies, Katara supposes. Zuko takes the reins, then pauses and looks down at Iroh. "Uncle... I still don't know if I-"

"The man who has lost his way and found it again," Iroh says evenly, "is stronger than the man who has never strayed from his path."

Katara thinks on this for the rest of the afternoon.

 

* * *

 

"It's my turn to drive."

"No, it's not."

" _Yes_ , it _is_." Katara crosses her arms over the edge of the saddle and glares down at Zuko. It is late evening and they have been flying for hours. "Are we going to have this fight _every time_ we travel?"

"Probably."

Katara makes an aggravated noise and flops backward, spread-eagled. "Ugh. _Men._ You're worse than Sokka sometimes."

She can't see Zuko's wince, but she knows it's there anyway. "I'm not _that_ bad."

"Then prove it. Let me drive."

"No."

"See? _Men!_ "

The rumbling noise from Appa is clearly disgusted.

There's a long, very put-upon sigh. "It's almost time to camp." Zuko pulls on the reins, and the sky bison sinks a little lower closer to the earth. "You can drive tomorrow."

Katara picks at the tangles in her hair peevishly. "You're lying."

"I don't lie," he snaps.

True. "You _can't_ lie," Katara corrects herself. "There's a difference."

"I can too. I hid in the Earth Kingdom, didn't I?"

"And let me guess - every time you opened your mouth, you got in trouble."

The sullen silence tells her everything she needs to know. "Yeah, well," he says finally, "Azula got all the talent in the family."

His tone bothers Katara, and she returns to the edge of the saddle to look down. "All the talent at lying, you mean."

"All the talent at _everything_."

A long pause, during which Katara watches the wind pull at Zuko's hair. She's not sure how he can see without it pulled back. "It's going to be a problem when you're Fire Lord," she says. Katara is an idealist, but she's not an idiot. Even Aang had to make up a story about a ball game to stop the century-long feud between the Gan Jins and the Zhangs. Sometimes leaders _have_ to lie, and if Zuko doesn't learn how, he's going to be in a lot of trouble. "Maybe you should practice. Tell me a lie, and I'll tell you if you sound believable."

Zuko glances over his shoulder and gives her a withering look. She simply raises an eyebrow. "Fine," he says. "My name is Lee, and this-" he pats Appa "-is my uncle, Mushi."

If Sokka had declared Momo to be the Earth King, Katara would have found it more believable. "That was awful."

"Thanks. Let's hear you do-"

His words are cut off with a sharp inhale. An instant later, Katara feels it too: a strange, dizzying magnetism, like her blood is trying to move in the wrong direction. She finds herself sliding downward, unable to sit upright in a world off its axis. Zuko groans through gritted teeth - a sound she hasn't heard in months - so whatever's happening, it's certainly not hurting _him_.

The clouds race away as the sky turns red.

 

* * *

 

They land quickly. Zuko jumps off of Appa, staring at the barren rockland, at the glow overhead, at his own hands. His chest heaves as he paces and sucks in lungfuls of air. "This feels amazing," he says breathlessly. "This feels _incredible_."

"Uh-huh." Katara stumbles to the ground, working hard to stay on her feet. Gravity has completely shifted. The _push and pull_ of her body is all wrong.

"Now I know why Sozin did it. It feels like I could take over the world, like I-" He clearly catches to whom he's speaking, because he adds hastily, "Not that I _would_ , I'm just saying... Katara? Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says automatically. "I'm fine." It's partly true. As she straightens and takes a few steps, she can sense her equilibrium begin to adjust, like finding her sea legs. "It's just the comet. It... feels weird." It's a second moon, creating another tide.

Zuko doesn't look at all convinced. "You're moving like a newborn ostrich horse."

"No, see? It's getting better." Her body and chi are already compensating, working with the new sensations. A few circles around Appa - who grunts at her in a concerned fashion, though maybe he's just hungry - and she feels close to normal. "How are you?"

The soon-to-be Fire Lord makes a small bending motion, one that shouldn't create more than a puff of smoke. Flames _whoosh_ ten feet in every direction. "Good," he says. "I'm good."

 

* * *

 

Waterbender and Firebender spar until they can barely stand. Zuko tries to refuse because of the comet, which puts them on inherently unequal grounds, until Katara points out that Azula won't care very much about fairness. She can tell Zuko's holding back anyway - but in the beginning that's a good thing, because he could very well have killed her otherwise.

Her bending has gone as strange as her balance. The first few tries send splashes everywhere; Appa quickly moves to the other side of the clearing and refuses to come back, bellowing at them indignantly if they call in his direction. After bit of practice, though, she figures out how to adjust her stance and her flow - and realizes that the more heavily she leans on the hybridized moves she developed from watching Zuko, the more successful she is. She uses her upper body less and focuses instead on her legs, giving up fluidity in favor of sharpness and speed; by the time they're finished she feels more like a Firebender than a Waterbender, but at least her element is obeying her again.

The Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, on the other hand, has in the space of an hour become the most powerful combatant Katara's ever seen - once he figures out how not to burn down the entire valley by accident. It's not long before they're collapsed on opposite sides of the camp fire, gulping down tea and rice cakes. "Feels like old times," Katara says, healing a blistered welt on her forearm.

Zuko glances over... then smiles hesitantly. "If you _really_ want it to feel like old times," he offers, "I could tie you to a tree."

Katara's both exhausted and full of adrenaline. She can't help bursting into giggles. It was _so_ long ago. "We could have Appa dress up as a pirate!"

Zuko starts to laugh too - or rather, the rusty chuckle that passes for his laughter. Katara has noticed that he never looks happier than when someone likes a joke he's found the courage to tell. "Use a stick as a waterbending scroll," he suggests, eyes gleaming.

She nods vigorously. "And you've already got my necklace, so..." But then she trails off, because she doesn't know how to finish that sentence.

"Yeah," he says, looking away. His thumb brushes against his pocket. Katara knows that's where he keeps it, where he's _been_ keeping it ever since he came to the Western Air Temple and she made clear that what had happened on the ship was not to be discussed - for all the good that did.

She's not taking the necklace back. She gave it to him. That makes it _his_ necklace, and if he gives it back he's not _returning_ it, he's...

Katara wasn't raised in the Northern Water Tribe or with their customs, but there's still too much symbolism there.

To change the subject she says, "I wonder if the others are okay."

"They're fine." Zuko breaks off a piece of firewood; he lights it with his hand before tossing it into the flames. "Sokka knows what he's doing."

"Can I tell him you said that?"

"No."

"Didn't think so." She reclines onto her side and rests her cheek against the palm of her hand. "I wonder if Aang's okay."

"I'm sure he's fine too." Zuko's words aren't reassuring this time. They're cold and they're sharp.

Katara's voice isn't much warmer when she replies. "He's _coming back_ , Zuko."

"Yeah. _You_ think so."

It feels like an insult. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands, narrowing her eyes.

"It means you're biased," Zuko says flatly. He stares into the camp fire; light flickers against the puckered valleys of his scar. "You think he's the Spirits' gift to the universe. You never see him for what he is: a spoiled, selfish brat who's been coddled since the day he was born."

Katara is so angry that for a few moments she literally can't speak. "You don't know what you're talking about," she eventually says, once she's sure she won't bite through her own tongue. "You have _no_ idea the kind of things he's been through."

"I'm sure it's so much worse than everyone else's life."

"I didn't say it was! But no one else is under the same kind of _pressure_! How would _you_ feel if you were told you had to save the world when you were _twelve?_ "

"I was told at ten that I'd be Fire Lord one day."

"Right, and you've _never_ acted spoiled or selfish."

"Maybe so, but I've always done what I had to, whether I liked it or not." The fire sparks and flames brighter - brighter than it usually would when Zuko is in bad temper, thanks to the comet fueling his power. "Aang wants to do what _he_ wants. He doesn't want to listen to what anyone else has to say."

"That's not true! He listens to what _everyone_ has to say! That's the problem!"

Zuko might have met the boy who came out of the iceburg, but he never _knew_ him - not the boy who just wanted to go penguin sledding and ride giant koi. He didn't see Aang in the Southern Air Temple, when he realized he was the last Airbender and all of his people were gone. He didn't know about the old fisherman who shouted that Aang had turned his back on the world. He wasn't there when General Fong forced Aang into the Avatar State. Zuko didn't watch as Aang heard over and over and _over_ that he was the only one who could end the war, how the fate of the nations was all _his_ responsibility.

"Everyone's been telling him a hundred different things about what he's supposed to think," she goes on. "It's no wonder he's confused."

"Well, I hope he gets over it before his _confusion_ kills us all."

Katara can't believe she's having this argument, she really can't. "I've been lecturing Aang for _weeks_ about how he ought to be nicer to you," she says furiously, getting to her feet. "Maybe I was yelling at the wrong person!"

"Please." It's her shoes that take the force of his glare. "You've never yelled at the Avatar in your life."

" _What?_ Of course I have! That's- you're being- _Ugh!_ " She stomps her foot in frustration. "The two of you drive me crazy! You're not competing with each another! You're supposed to be _on the same side now!_ "

Zuko flinches.

Katara pauses.

She stares.

She understands.

"You _are_ competing with each other," she says, stunned. When he doesn't reply she knows she's right, but that doesn't mean it makes sense. "Why?"

"Forget it," Zuko mumbles. "It doesn't matter."

Katara is going to drown them both, Avatar and Fire Lord or not. "This is absolutely the _stupidest_ thing I've ever-"

"Everyone likes him." The sticks crackling in the fire are louder than his words. "Not just you. Everyone we meet. He doesn't even have to try."

Katara starts to protest, but stops herself. They'd both know she was lying. Everyone _does_ like Aang, and even when Zuko puts in effort it takes time to warm up to him. "Some people are just more... personable," she says, gentler now. "It doesn't mean anything."

"It means they were born lucky."

"Exactly." Those are the words she was looking for. "It's only luck, you know?"

Zuko's head just lowers further. "Believe me, I know."

It's late; it seems wrong to leave him like this, but Katara isn't sure what else she's supposed to say. It's easier with Aang; she just thinks of how her mother would have handled the situation, and Aang cheers up. It doesn't work like that with Zuko. "I'm going to bed," she tells him. "Try to be in a better mood tomorrow morning."

He just snorts and uses a wrist movement to coax the flames into a glimmering red whirlpool.

It's the same bend she would use on water.

 

* * *

 

She can't sleep.

This is not new for Katara. Sometimes she thinks she hasn't slept - _really_ slept - since the day Ba Sing Se fell. She certainly didn't on Azula's ship, and since then it has been difficult as well, because her logical mind and confused heart haven't been able to explain to her frustrated body why it can't have what it had grown accustomed to. Her body only understands that good things happened to it while in captivity, and now it robs her of restful nights. Particularly since Zuko arrived at the Western Air Temple.

But Katara is a whole person who is not made solely of urging hormones; they did not rule her nor make her decisions... except sometimes they were accompanied by an empty sadness, one that felt like a physical thing, as though her bones had been sucked clean of marrow. In those particularly uneasy hours she would give her aches some semblence of what they wanted, and close her eyes as she imagined her fingers belonged to someone else. It always left her hollow.

She is hollow now.

Tomorrow they will be in the Fire Nation, just their little invasion force of two - three, if she counts Appa. Katara tries to remind herself that _Azula_ only needed three to bring down the Earth Kingdom. It doesn't help. She's not Azula. Neither is Zuko.

She wonders if he's feeling hollow too.

Without consciously thinking about it, she finds herself crawling out of the tent.

The sky is still crimson on the horizon, but the night air is chilly as she tiptoes past the snoring Appa and berates herself. Not only is she allowing her baser desires to control her, she is doing it in spite of the fact that her heart is no less unsettled today than it was months ago. It is unfair to him. It is unfair to her.

But then again, they might both be dead by this time tomorrow and it won't make any difference.

These tents, taken from the Water Tribe warriors, are smaller than the ones she's used to; when she lifts the flap and Zuko sits up, his head brushes the ceiling. "Katara? What's going-"

"Nothing." She grabs his wrist, which stops him from pulling out the broadswords and slicing up whatever threat he thinks has sent her to him in the middle of the night. "I was... just..."

It suddenly occurs to her that he might say no. This isn't exactly a good time, after all. They're supposed to go to war in a few hours.

Still, she leans back and tugs on the ties of her clothes. Her hair falls into her face as she does. Katara has never started this before, never, and she knows that at any moment he might tell her he won't be used and to go back to her own bed. It's nervewracking. She has no idea who it is she's trying to seduce: the Prince, the Firebender, or the boy from the ship. Any of them. All of them.

He doesn't make a sound as she shrugs out of her robe, baring herself above the waist. There's no iron or tea or red cushions. She's too nervous to look up, so she studies the stitching on the edge of his bedroll instead, noting where she needs to make repairs to the seam.

And she waits.

And waits.

And waits.

The guilt in her chest blossoms into full-on humiliation. It was stupid of her to come here. As soon as she can open her mouth to speak she's going to apologize profusely then escape with whatever dignity she can scrounge up-

Well-known fingers ghost across her ribs, curl around her waist, and give the lightest, faintest pull forward.

Katara exhales in shaky relief and meets his lips with her own.

It throws her off that he won't begin anything. He seems content just to kiss her; he doesn't take off his clothes until she starts to tug at them; he doesn't move his hands from her sides until she puts them on her breasts; he doesn't push inside until she squirms beneath him and parts her knees impatiently. She thinks she understands why he's acting like this - he doesn't know what he's doing, neither does she, this is more foreign than familiar - but in spite of everything she still wonders if he's only humoring her.

Any doubts are allayed when she wraps her thighs around his hips. She feels more than hears her name against her throat, and the quick forceful _firebending_ movements that follow are exactly what she needs.

It takes so much effort not to cry out.

They're silent for long minutes afterwards. He lies on his side and brushes a calloused palm in soft circles across her belly; it's something he's done before, and again, it feels different on a bedroll in a dark tent than it did on cushions in a metal room.

"I'm scared Aang won't come back," she confesses in a whisper.

The hand on her stomach doesn't even pause. "He will."

Katara rolls Zuko over and kisses him.

 

* * *

 

In the morning blazing fire peeks over the sky line, brighter by far than the sun. Zuko packs quietly. Katara adds dragon root to her tea.

Sozin's Comet gains on them with every hour they fly west.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
_**Duels of Honor** _   
_(Part Two)_   


* * *

  
_let the only sound be the overflow_   
_Florence + The Machine, "What the Water Gave Me"_   


* * *

 

The first flaw in their plan comes to light when Appa will not fly into the Capital. "What's wrong with him?" Zuko demands as the sky bison roars and tries his hardest to buck against Katara's hold on the reins.

"Appa doesn't like fire," she says.

There is indeed fire _everywhere_. Even from a distance - and they are still a long way from the island, from here the harbor appears no larger than the Spirit Oasis - the flames shoot into the air in dancing orange colors, clear against the darkened sky.

Anxiety makes Katara's hands shake, but only just. "Are they fighting?" she asks nervously. There should not be a battle here.

Zuko narrows his eyes in the direction of the city, and, after a moment of contemplation, lets out a rusty chuckle. "No," he says, sounding strangely amused. "They're playing."

 _"Playing?_ "

"It's the comet. I think everyone is having fun with their bending powers."

Katara opens her mouth, then closes it. "They're going to destroy the city," she says finally, watching as blaze after blaze rises above the buildings.

"This is the _Fire Nation_ , Katara. We don't build our houses with things that burn."

Nothing will encourage Appa to edge closer. He simply circles at what he must consider to be a safe distance from the conflagration, whining piteously whenever Katara tries to coax him into compliance. Zuko comments on her driving abilities, and she offers to throw him from the saddle and let him swim to shore.

Eventually there is nothing for it; the sky bison is at least willing to settle on the south side of the island, so close to the cliffs Katara nearly stumbles a hundred feet into the ocean. She changes into her Fire Nation clothes, out of Zuko's view; being naked in the light is different, somehow, and even the memory of pleasure in Katara's body doesn't make the idea comfortable.

Zuko straps his broadswords to his back and pulls a hooded cloak over his head to hide his scar; Katara ties on her waterskin and tucks his ebony-handled dagger into her robes. That is all they take.

They begin the long run towards the city.

 

* * *

 

The second flaw in the plan comes when they get lost.

"I can't believe you don't know how to get there," Katara hisses as they slink along the rooftops of the harbor. Here there is less celebration; sailors are busy unloading ships, farmers are hauling baskets of cabbage, merchants with singed hair are being none-too-gentle with enormous fireworks. "How can you get lost in your own capital?"

Zuko glares at her. "We're going that way," he says testily. He points up towards the basin of the volcano, which seemed very close when they landed but now just climbs higher and higher in front of their eyes.

"I figured out _that_ much. Which street are we supposed to take?"

Silence.

If she could let go of the shingles she would smack her forehead. "I thought you grew up here!"

A burst of flame rockets past their heads, and Zuko subtly deflects it before it singes Katara's robes. "I was brought on a covered palanquin whenever I had to come to the docks. I didn't need to know my way around."

They leap to the next building. The shadows brought on by the red sky protect them from prying eyes, though no one below cares enough to look. "What a stupid way of doing things," Katara grumbles. "How are you supposed to be a good Fire Lord if they never took you out to see the people?"

"It won't matter one way or another if we don't get to the Palace." Zuko sounds flatly peevish now. " _Azula_ will be Fire Lord and _she_ can worry about the people."

There has to be a faster way to manage this. Katara glances at the passing carts below. "Okay. I'll get us a ride."

"You'll what?"

She climbs down from the rooftop, joining unnoticed the workers streaming to the west, and moves closer to where wagon after wagon progresses up the road. Most are heaps of fresh, bright-eyed fish, some still helplessly flapping their tails.

Katara meanders along and whistles a fishing song as she does, flashing girlish smiles at the men in the carts. She learned the tune while traveling. It is not so different from the songs the men sang in her village - new notes, but a rhythm tied to the beat of a paddle. The Water Tribe icebergs and the Fire Nation islands both rose from the sea.

She slips away from Katara of the South and slides effortlessly into Ling of the Colonies.

The fifth passing driver offers her a lift.

 

* * *

 

The progress is slow up the zagging road of the mountainside, but it's faster than walking, and they receive no curious glances from the passersby. They're just two more citizens on their way to the coronation festivals.

"Your brother's not much of a talker," the old man remarks, glancing back to where Zuko sits. Unagi intended for the celebration spills into the Prince's lap with every jostle of the cart.

"He's mute," says Katara. "Never says a word. It's very sad." She calls: "I said it's _very sad_ , isn't it, Appa?"

Zuko nods curtly, his face still hidden.

Katara's expression is sorrowful as she turns back to the fisherman. "Tragic. So what were the tides like this morning?"

 

* * *

 

When they reach the city proper they are nearly crushed by the wildly energized crowds.

There will never be another celebration like this. Sozin's Comet; the end of a war; the crowning of a new Fire Lord, _without_ an accompanying funeral and white mourning. No matter how an individual might feel about the details of the world's new era, it's impossible not to be swept up in the carnival atmosphere: the smell of roast duck from the street vendors, the sound of music from tsungi horns, the shouts and laughs and the bright waving banners of both Fire Nation tradition and the Phoenix King's proud new insignias.

It's beautiful, and were Katara not about to overthrow the government, she thinks she might even enjoy it. If she could find food that didn't burn her tongue from her mouth.

The mob provides better camouflage than the shadows; even as the bustling people bump into them, even when they _smile_ at them with the camaraderie of national pride, they are not noticed, not really. Katara's skin and eyes are probably excused as the sign of a colonist; Zuko pulls his hood lower. "They're all having so much fun," she murmurs to the Prince, somewhat disturbed at how much regret she suddenly feels. She's about to ruin their day. A year ago this wouldn't have bothered her, but that time is long past. These people aren't monsters. They're just people.

Cheers erupt as someone accidentally sets off a round of fireworks. Sparks rain down; most of the crowd ducks, but Katara, used to far more dramatic displays of flame, doesn't even flinch. It's this mistake - standing a head above everyone else - that exhibits the third flaw in their plan.

"Hey, Ling!" calls a vaguely familiar voice. Katara looks down the street to see a short, good-looking girl with delicate spectacles perched on her nose. The girl waves.

Chiya, from Ember Island.

Katara curses under her breath.

"Hey, Ling!"

Zuko glances at Katara. "Who's Ling?"

"Long story." She waves back to Chi-Chi with a smile, gestures to the crush between them - _I can't come over, too busy!_ \- then grabs Zuko's hand and drags him into an alley way. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

To her surprise, Zuko manages to swallow his questions until they're several blocks away - but when he speaks it's in exactly the stiff tone she's anticipated. "Who was that?"

"A friend." The houses are growing steadily taller, with larger windows and brighter paint on their walls; the opulence is obvious, even from the back.

"You have friends in the Fire Nation?"

They start picking their way through the trash cans. "Yes. Lots of them, actually." The noise is still deafening, but now they're out of sight, which is where they have to stay. They've been careful about Zuko. It never occurred to Katara that _she_ might be the one recognized.

Another set of fireworks explodes overhead, dripping and golden.

"How did that happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"You. Making friends."

She gives him a look. "I talked to them," she says. "It's really not that hard." That puts a dark expression on his face, so she adds, "A lot of them are hoping _you'll_ rule, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. There's people who don't like the war, and who don't like your sister or your father. They're mostly further away from the capital, and they don't have a lot of power, but... still, isn't that kind of thing important?"

Zuko says: "You seem to know more about my country than I do." It's a miserable statement, and a true one in some ways, which makes it worse.

Katara stops to face him. " _You_ can learn all this stuff too," she insists. "I mean, I picked it up just traveling for a month. And everyone will like you if you give them a chance."

"It don't care if they like me."

It is by far the least believable lie Zuko has ever told.

There's no point in arguing with him when he's in this sort of mood - at least not when they're short on time. Better to change the subject. "How much longer?" The cobblestones don't give way like grass or sand or snow; her feet are killing her.

"Not far." He points to their right, where a slender lane will force them to edge sideways. "We're right by the Palace. The Coronation Plaza's to the northwest-"

A hand comes from nowhere and grabs her collar; both she and Zuko are yanked into the house at their backs. Before she can think to bend she's shoved against a wall and feels the keen edge of a blade at her throat.

Mai looks at Zuko. Her nose wrinkles. "You smell like a dead eel," she complains.

 

* * *

 

The windows of Mai's home look out over the Fire Palace, a gold monolith that stabs at the burning sky. This severity of the structure is softened by a thousand waving red and yellow flags, the parade passing from the gates, the laudation of the rank and file as they prepare to crown their new queen.

Katara fights down the fear. She keeps the blood in her veins cold.

"Why aren't you two at the ceremony?" asks Zuko, having sheathed his swords after Ty Lee squealed with joy at their arrival.

"Are you kidding?" Mai says. "The formal coronation rituals take hours. You couldn't pay me to go."

"Plus, we can't be out in _that._ " Ty Lee cringes, which makes the petals of her skirt flutter. "They told the non-benders to stay home till the comet's gone. But Zuko! Azula is going to be _so_ happy you came!" She bites her lip as she glances at Katara, and apologetically adds, "She won't be so happy about you. You should probably hang out with us today." Taking Katara's stare of disbelief for approval, she brightens instantly and says, "But maybe later we can all get together and - and take a big trip to Ember Island, or something. I _know_ after that we'll be friends."

"Yes," says Mai witheringly to the pink-clad optimist. "I'm sure building sandcastles will stop Azula from wanting to kill Zuko's girlfriend." A startled look from Zuko, and she elaborates, "Haven't you heard? She wants your Waterbender's charbroiled head on a spear."

"I'd like to see her try," says Katara.

She would.

"What does Katara have to do with anything?" Zuko demands.

Mai stares at him, then sighs. "If you really don't know, I'm not going to waste my time trying to explain." Katara watches as the sour-faced girl critically scans Zuko head-to-toe. "The procession is already on the way to the Plaza," she says out of nowhere, pointing out the window. "Are you really planning to show up dressed - and smelling - like _that?_ "

"I'm not going there to make a social call." Zuko shrugs. His thoughts are clearly a thousand miles away - no, Katara corrects herself, just _one_ mile, traveling with the parade. "It doesn't really matter how I look."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mai snaps. "Of course it matters how you look. And what you say, and _how_ you say it- haven't you thought this through at _all_?"

"What difference will it make?" asks Katara. They're going to storm the place and take the Princess down before she becomes Fire Lord. It's difficult, but not complicated. Besides, their clothes will probably be ruined in the process anyway.

Though it _would_ be nice if Zuko didn't stink. But maybe he'll make Azula nauseous.

Mai makes a noise of utter disgust. "Come on," she says to Zuko. "Some of my father's old robes might work. Ty Lee..." She trails off, narrows her eyes at Katara, and shakes her head. "Never mind. It's not like they won't know what _she_ is." And she leads a protesting Fire Prince from the room.

Katara really doesn't like that the best knife specialist in the world is taking Zuko out of her sight, but he can take care of himself, especially on the day of Sozin's Comet. Probably. "I don't get it," she says. "What's the big deal?"

Ty Lee doesn't answer; instead she sits down on the back of the couch, the open window behind her providing a grand view of the festivities. Another circle of fireworks explodes overhead. "Can I do your hair?" she asks excitedly.

Katara is still creeped out by Ty Lee - the girl can take away _bending_ \- but she bemusedly submits to the request, and allows the girl to undo her braid and pull her hair up, Fire Nation-style.

 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later Zuko is clean, dressed in ceremonial robes that are a little too big for him, and, Katara has to admit, looking a lot more like royalty than an infiltrator about to stage a coup.

"Oh, Mai," breathes Ty Lee, "you were right. Azula's going to like that _so_ much better."

Mai ignores the statement. Katara harbors no doubts that she knows exactly what Zuko is about to do. "Leave your swords here," she tells Zuko; he nods, and hands them over without a word. Mai gingerly places them on a side table.

That is a _terrible_ idea. "But what if you need them?" Katara protests.

"Do you _want_ everyone to think he can't bend?" Mai shoots back.

"Wait! Wait wait wait!" Suddenly Ty Lee is searching all over the room, making squeaks of distress. " _Your_ hair! Mai, how could you forget?"

Zuko groans. "Don't be ridiculous-"

"No, she's right," Mai says, interrupting him. "You look like you've been camping for months with a bunch of peasants."

Both Zuko and Katara bristle at that, but he capitulates with a scowl as Ty Lee jerks him down to the couch and starts tying a formal top knot.

Mai catches Katara's eye and they step to the side. "He's the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation," says the other girl. Her hair reflects the crimson light shining through the windows. "But he won't seem like it if you're there."

"I'm not letting him go alone." It's not even a question.

"Just because political games bore me doesn't mean I don't understand them. Azula is already at the Plaza. Everyone who matters will be watching, and you're going to make him look weak." Katara doesn't reply; after a moment, Mai shrugs. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

She _is_ warning them. Even though she's one of Azula's best friends. Katara has to ask: "What are you doing?"

Mai watches as Zuko stands and smoothes out his robes. "Saving the jerk who never noticed me," she answers.

 

* * *

 

Ty Lee embraces Katara enthusiastically as the challengers to the throne depart. "Try not to get murdered!" she advises.

Mai does not hug.

 

* * *

 

They could sneak to the Coronation Plaza. Katara thinks they should sneak. Katara would feel a _lot better_ if they were sneaking, which she tells Zuko repeatedly.

But it seems Zuko has decided to take Mai's advice. His borrowed clothes don't have a hood; he doesn't even hide his scar as they walk through the thoroughfare, and there is a steely expression on his face that Katara recognizes from the days he chased her - no, Aang - no, maybe her - around the world.

They're attracting attention.

Some people stop in their tracks, nudge the friends at their sides, and point. Some people whisper behind their hands. Once their Prince is identified their focus turns to the girl at his side, the one whose Fire Nation silks don't make her look Fire Nation.

The whispers grow louder, but the crowd parts for them, and soon the would-be Fire Lord and his mysterious companion are being followed by an entourage of the curious who were not important enough to warrant an invitation to the ceremonies. Something is obviously about to happen, and no one intends to miss it.

"Zuko?"

"Yeah?"

There's five hundred things she wants to say, but Katara goes with: "I've got your back."

His lips twitch into a faint smile.

The gates that cut the Coronation Plaza from the street are enormous gold slabs carved with clawed dragons; statues of ancient Fire Lords loom overhead, casting everyone into shadow, and the enormity of what they're about to do strikes Katara once more. She wishes she were back in her igloo, eating Gran-Gran's seal steaks and waiting for the sun to return. She wishes she'd never heard of the Avatar.

But Zuko, if anything, looks more confident. She can talk to people in the marketplace and the little towns the world over, but this is the Crown Prince's element. It _looks_ like his home.

A single imperious glance is enough to make the guards bow respectfully and open the way. Their manner towards Katara is more uncertain, but she raises her chin as she passes, judging it best to follow Zuko's lead - for the time being, at least. It works. Their nods to her are just as deferential.

The guards can't close the doors against the rabble following behind. They follow Zuko and Katara, not out of support, but eager interest. Katara hopes it will be mistaken for something else, because when they cross through a marble-columned pavilion and take in the sight beyond, she realizes they're going to need every bit of reinforcement they can get.

As always, the first thing she notices is the water - she always knows where water is. Here it runs in long rectangular reservoirs up and down the parade ground, surrounded by tiny flames that lick at the edges without burning the wood. There is water beneath her feet, too. She can feel it in her fingertips.

But there is _so much more_ than water. As they enter they go unnoticed by the hundred hooded men and women standing with a hundred tall banners, silently facing the enormous temple at the other side of the plaza. On the high steps kneels a red figure before an old man, whose voice carries effortlessly through the air.

_"By decree of the Phoenix King, I now crown you Fire Lord-"_

_"My name is Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai, Prince of the Fire Nation, and heir to the throne."_

Well, everyone's noticing them _now_.

 

* * *

 

Azula rises, and as her face comes into focus, Katara can see something like a edged delight. Her body looks bigger for being weighed down in ancestral armor. "Zuko," she says in a mockingly affectionate way, "You've come home to swear fealty, I see."

They make their way through the staggered onlookers, all nobility and military present to pay homage to their new ruler. Zuko stops at the bottom of the stone stairs; Katara lingers two steps behind. "You aren't going to become Fire Lord today," he says. "I am."

She starts to laugh. "You're hilarious."

"I am the first born of the Fire Lord, Azula-" his tone holds more steel than his swords "-and still the Crown Prince."

"The Phoenix King chose _me_ to rule the Fire Nation, Zuzu; that outweighs such a trifle as accident of birth order. Grandfather did the same for Father and Uncle, after all."

Mai's directives have done their job; Zuko looks every bit as royal as his sister as he responds: "Uncle conceded to our father with honor, Azula - but I'm not Uncle. I'm not conceding _anything_ to you. This is my country, and I won't let you destroy it."

"Are you questioning my love of the Fire Nation?"

"Your love would burn the Fire Nation to the ground."

The siblings are holding each others' full attention, but Katara is free to take in the flabbergasted stares of the people around them: the soldiers, the rich, the rabble who followed them in. Most of those present must be firebenders, and Sozin's Comet shines overhead; if the crowd starts to take sides it will be ugly in a hurry. Though that assumes anyone would take their side.

"All right. You want to be Fire Lord? Fine." Azula's half-smile is mocking as she steps away from the Sages. "Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother: _Agni Kai._ "

Zuko's smirk mirrors his sister's. "I don't think so. You had your chance in Ba Sing Se."

Mutters through the Plaza. To refuse an Agni Kai is apparently worthy of note.

"Did I? But I thought you wanted to do this the honorable way." She turns to the hooded man at her side, the one still holding the crown in wrinkled hands. "Challenges of succession are settled by duels - I'm _sure_ I read that _somewhere._ "

The Sage nods.

 _In the Fire Nation,_ Zuko said to Aang, _there are duels of honor called Agni Kai. You fight until one side yields. And sometimes that's it and it's over. But for the really big things, the person who loses dies._

A battle for the throne is a _really big thing_.

"You threw him into the Catacombs rather than fight him!" Katara shouts, sudden dread uncurling in her stomach. "You can't just change your mind now!"

Azula seems to notice the Waterbender for the first time, and her expression turns twisted and ugly. "Zuzu, are you letting your _pet_ speak for your honor?"

"She has more honor than either of us," Zuko snaps.

"Does she really. Is that why you brought her with you?" Azula gestures to the assembly with her pointed nails. "Are you planning to introduce everyone to their new Fire Lady?"

Katara freezes. The murmuring on the parade ground grows louder; dozens of glares are aimed in her direction. "Deny it," she says beneath her breath. "Quick." She gets Mai's warning now: they can defeat Azula, but that won't matter if the leaders of the nation won't accept the Crown Prince in her place.

"Yes, Zuzu, deny it. Tell them they won't be asked to bow to a South Pole peasant. Tell them all she's just your whore."

His hands clench. He doesn't respond.

" _Do it!_ " It isn't as though he's ever hidden his wishes from her - when she didn't know it was because she didn't understand - but it is a very different thing to hear them spelled out in his silence. But what he wants doesn't matter, because if ever there was a time to lie, _this_ is it...

...but it's Zuko. He can't lie. He isn't even _trying_.

That is the fourth flaw in their plan.

"Still don't want to keep her hidden, do you?" The Princess clicks her tongue sadly. "Oh, Zuzu. Just look at what you've become: a Royal Prince of the Fire Nation who can't rule unless a _Waterbender_ holds his hand. The country will be _so_ impressed."

The rumbles of the crowd turn darker, the pale skin around Zuko's scar reddens, and fear turns Katara's body cold. She suddenly recognizes what Iroh meant when he said _bending_ isn't the edge Azula holds over her brother. "She's playing you," Katara says in an urgent undertone. "She knows she can't take us both on, so she's trying to separate us."

Azula doesn't miss a beat. "If you can't defeat your baby sister by yourself, what kind of Fire Lord would you be?"

"Don't listen to her."

"I'll tell you: a weak Fire Lord."

The grumbles grow louder.

"Zuko, Azula always lies."

"A _dishonorable_ Fire Lord."

"Azula always lies."

"A Fire Lord who was _lucky to be born_."

"Azula _always lies_ -"

"Or," the Princess taunts sweetly, "we could skip the Agni Kai, and settle it with an apple on your peasant's head."

It's the fatal blow.

"You're on," Zuko says.

 

* * *

 

"This is one of the duels where people die, isn't it."

He doesn't answer. Azula's on the other side of the arena, standing at the bottom of the stone stairs with her head held high; two elderly, stooped women remove her armor and dress her for formal battle. Katara is the only one with Zuko, and she doesn't know the ritual. She watches as he takes off his shirt; he hesitates, then hands it to her.

Katara throws the shirt to the ground.

There's a pause before Zuko turns away and ties bands about his biceps. "Fine," he says. "Don't help."

"I'm _trying_ to help! Even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula - you don't need to fight her alone!"

"I really do."

" _Why?_ "

"Because she's right." One of the Sages approaches, holding a cloak; Zuko takes it with a nod while Katara turns away to keep from whipping the old man off his feet. Once he's gone Zuko continues, "If I'm too weak to win an Agni Kai, then I'll never be able to lead the Fire Nation."

This has _nothing_ to do with the Fire Nation. He's about to get himself killed because he's too proud to back down and too ashamed to let his own actions speak for themselves and Katara wants to drag him out of here and spend the rest of their lives beating it into his thick skull that he isn't what Azula says he is. "You're not weak, Zuko," she says, "and you're not dishonorable. You don't have to prove anything!"

He arranges the rust-shaded silk over his shoulders. "You think I'm going to lose." His voice is either angry or sad.

"I think you're being stupid," Katara retorts. It's not really an answer, but she doesn't know how to say _You'll lose because you'll beat yourself._ "There's no reason we can't both take her down. We're better _together!_ "

He looks at her for such a long moment that she wonders if maybe, _maybe_ she got through - but all he does is give her a strange half-smile. "It's okay, you know."

"What is?"

"That you don't love me. It's okay. I don't mind."

It's hard to breathe, and the fissures that have been inside Katara's chest since the day she escaped crack apart like breaking bones as she admits, "I don't know what I feel."

A long beat. "Well," Zuko says finally, "that's okay too."

He steps forward and kisses her. It's quick, almost violent, and before Katara can respond he has already pulled away. They are in full view of the crowd. The arena has gone silent.

"Everyone saw that," she whispers.

"I don't care." And he leaves her, walking out from under the protection of the tiled roof to kneel on the sanded clay ground. In Agni Kai even bending a knee is done with pride.

If Zuko lives through this, Katara is going to murder him herself.

 

* * *

 

The people disperse to the pavilions on either side of the Plaza, with a few even climbing the rooftops to get a better view. Bearing witness to Agni Kai is an ancient custom, but over half the throng has left; a battle to the death between two of the most powerful firebenders in the world on the day of Sozin's Comet will not be a spectator-safe event. Those who remain are held by the lure of the first duel for the throne in over two hundred years. Their grandchildren will tell _their_ grandchildren about this day.

And of course the Fire Sages remain, expressions forever impassive.

The combatants stand. Azula removes her cape; the insignia looks like a real flame as it flutters to the ground. She is dressed identically to Zuko, aside from the tight swath of red that binds her chest. "I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother," she says, and if Katara didn't know the girl had devoted a lifetime to learning what buttons to press, she'd think Azula meant it.

"No," says Zuko. "You're not."

 

* * *

_Everyone_ ducks when the first blasts explode into the air.

Over the roar she hears the cries of the bystanders. The benders present fight to block collateral damage, but ricocheting flares spiral in every direction, shooting across rafters, diving between pillars, shaking the ground. One does not fight fire with fire.

Katara _reaches_ into the wooden reservoirs. The flames surrounding them wink out, and clear barriers of ice, twenty feet high, protect the people from the Agni Kai.

 

* * *

 

Azula is stronger. There is more blue than orange, towering infernos that shoot far beyond the Plaza and out into the city streets, blinding to the eyes and blistering to the skin. She has discipline, focus, and sheer, raw power that wells up from some endless blaze of malice inside her heart.

It would already be over, Katara realizes, if the Fire Princess had the slightest idea what her brother was doing.

There are no lashes or arcs. He stops the attacks with stable walls that lick and snap through the air; he calls flames that crash down from above in wave after conflagrating wave, until Azula has no choice but to pause her assault to disperse them. Stone-melting heat races along the ground, leaving cloudy glass in its wake, and she jumps only just in time to save her feet from being burned off at the ankle.

He wanted to learn new moves to use against Azula, and he has. Zuko is waterbending with fire.

But she catches on as Zuko conjures a tornado of sparks and sends it roaring in her direction. The redirection scorches the shingles of the pagoda. "You can't even _bend_ like a Fire Lord!" she shouts, rage distorting her features into something feral.

"What's the matter?" he calls back. "Too much for you?"

She answers by jetting towards him faster than Katara's eye can follow; when he blocks with a careening wheel of flame the force knocks them both off their feet. Zuko lands on his back; Azula rolls for nearly twenty feet.

She rises first, hair loose and blowing dangled in the breeze. Blood drips from dozen scrapes across her shoulders and stomach; she pants for breath as Zuko struggles to all fours. "Don't get up," she commands. "Kneel to me, and I'll let you live."

There is no one present, including Katara, who doesn't understand the depth of the insult the Fire Prince has just been offered.

"Come home, Zuzu." Dark rivulets flow from her abdomen and drip to the broken clay beneath them. "Kneel, say you're sorry, and we'll forget about all of this. I'll even make you a general, just like Father did for Uncle. Come home. _I'll_ restore your honor. It will be like it was."

Katara steps out from under the shelter of the pagoda, because she is Water Tribe and will kill Azula herself if she has to - but Zuko doesn't need her help to refuse. "I begged once at an Agni Kai," he says, getting to his feet. "I won't ever beg again." His back straightens as he resumes his grounded stance. "And I don't need _you_ to tell me I'm honorable."

Azula's golden eyes widen, narrow, and flick to Katara; hatred all but shimmers in the atmosphere. "You'd rather have your _pet_ than your family."

" _You're_ the one who decided I can't have both," replies Zuko.

 

* * *

 

Once, many years ago, one of the bearwolves that roamed the local fishing grounds suddenly charged the village, frothing at the mouth, trying to scale the ice walls. It had taken eight men to slay the rabid beast. Its crazed howling haunted Katara's dreams for months.

Something snaps in Azula, and Katara only has a brief moment to think of the bearwolf before electricity begins to crackle through the air. The bright blue flashes stand out against the clouded crimson sky. "You should have feared me more than you loved her, brother!" she screams.

Zuko takes a slow breath and moves into position. Katara remembers, _In one arm. Through the stomach. Out the other arm._

Azula aims.

Not at her opponent.

Zuko dives in front of Katara and takes the lightning right in the chest.

 

* * *

 

Attacking a spectator of Agni Kai is the ultimate dishonor.

 

* * *

_"ZUKO!"_

Katara feels the name in her throat and sees it on Azula's lips. Ignoring tradition, custom, and whatever stupid rules the Fire Nation sees fit by which to kill each other, she runs for the fallen combatant-

-and is blasted back by an explosion of flame. " _Get away from us!_ "

"Azula, I can help!" Katara feels as though she's repeating words from a past life, even though it was only six months ago that Iroh struck the ground in an abandoned Earth Kingdom town. If someone had told her then that she'd be standing _here_ she would have accused them of midnight sun madness.

Azula prods Zuko with her foot. He groans, and she exhales with what Katara would swear is relief. "Zuzu," she says, the mocking tone back in her voice, "you don't look so good."

Katara tries to get around Azula and finds herself forced backward again. "I can heal him!" she cries. She has to heal him, she _has_ to- "Get out of my way!"

But the Fire Princess bleeds insane triumph, deaf to the shouts of the people still watching from behind walls of ice, and steps very deliberately in front of her brother. "I'd really rather our family physician look after Little Zuzu, if you don't mind."

 

* * *

 

The Crown Prince of the Fire Nation thinks in grand, symbolic concepts, like Honor, and War, and Family.

The last Waterbender of the Southern Tribe is not driven by the abstract. When making a decision of a moment she does not care about the country's future, or the traditions of honorable dueling, or whether an absent parent will love or hate her for her actions. She thinks in the immediate.

The immediate is that Azula stands between her and Zuko.

There are channels beneath grates on both sides of the Plaza. "Get out of my way," she repeats, "or I'll go through you."

Azula almost looks as though she will laugh, her skin pale beneath the sheen of sweat and blood, but she moves into a shaky fighting stance. She says softly, "It was always you and me, wasn't it."

Katara raises her arms. "I think so."

The ice walls shatter and the iron grates rocket through the pavilion rooftops as Katara bends everything she can feel straight into the air.

 

* * *

 

Anyone who doubts the power of water has never seen a tsunami. Water is a force of its own, and it does not give - it smothers flames, wears away stone, gains strength from wind.

The only remaining spectators run for their lives.

Sozin's Comet was meant for the Fire Nation, not the Water Tribe. Even injured Azula has a precision Katara can't manage right now; the waves, which crush everything in their paths, do not touch her. Flying debris reduces to cinders in mid-air. When Katara uses her leg to bring down a twenty foot sword of ice it explodes into snow before it can strike.

Azula recognizes the move. "You want to firebend, Sparrowkeet?" Katara spins away, barely missing a blast of flame. "I'll _show_ you _firebending!_ "

It's no different from fighting Zuko in the ship: a slipstream of elements crashing together, ten times bigger, but no different. Katara does not need to reform steam because the channels beneath the city are deep and long, connected to the distant ocean, pumped to the volcano by mechanized metal. The high pressure of the water rushing from underground forces ruptures that cave streets and crumble buildings. She spent months and months dueling Zuko. She knows her own strength.

The pavilions collapse entirely. Stone and shingles and broken pillars speed along airborne tides and punch holes through the walls of the Coronation Temple.

Still her feet slide backwards, because the entire world is burning.

 

* * *

 

In the end the bombardments slam her off balance and into the wreckage. When she hits the edge of a fallen support beam there is a loud snap in her side. Pain shoots through her body, and she has to retreat.

A current of ice carries her around the edge of the ravaged parade ground; Azula's blue fire follows her heels and burns the ends of her hair as she tries to keep ahead. The only structure still standing is the temple, and that is where the floe carries her. She ducks through the curtains just ahead of a fireball the size of Appa; the fabric bursts into flame behind her.

The rice paper windows are ash; the hall is littered with rubble. Katara ducks behind one of the posts and fights for air, her throat raw with smoke.

"Come out, peasant," calls the charmingly insane voice.

There's puddles everywhere, soaked in the rugs, running through holes in the ceiling. It wouldn't take much to bring down the roof and crush them both, but then who would heal Zuko? Someone has to heal Zuko.

A blast of turquoise lights the room. "I should have killed you in Ba Sing Se. This is what comes of being too nice."

The gold of the columns is cool against her hands. Sozin's Comet pulls her in all the wrong directions.

"I see what you are, you know. You think you'll use my brother to rule the Fire Nation. You've been twisting him around your filthy little finger from the beginning, but I _won't let you get away with it_."

The footsteps are getting closer. Katara coughs up a mouthful of blood; something inside her is broken. She fought Azula. It's a hazard.

But she can sense what's dripping from her chin as clearly as she can sense what's dripping through the roof.

"What are you waiting for? If you want Zuko so badly, then _face me!_ "

She steps from behind the pillar to meet Azula's deranged grin. "There you are, Sparrowkeet," she says, and electricity arcs between her fingers, cracking the air with ozone-

-Katara reaches out, feels for the scrapes covering her adversary's stomach, and bends forth a dozen wet ruby ribbons that wind and twist between them.

Azula makes a horrible noise and loses control of her lightning.

 

* * *

 

The Coronation Temple falls with a crash.

 

* * *

 

It takes too much time to claw her way out from the rubble. Katara doesn't know, or particularly care, what has become of Azula, because her ears are ringing and she has to heal Zuko.

She drags herself free and staggers along the parade ground. The moment she drops to his side she knows there is no life inside him. She's back beneath Ba Sing Se, come full circle, and she doesn't have water from the Oasis to help her this time.

She lays her hands on the Firebender and puts every ounce of strength into the most important thing she's ever done.

But there is no life inside Zuko.

She thinks she says his name, she knows her mouth forms it, but she can't hear the word aloud. Her vision goes blurry and she remembers that stupid play and thinks _Tearbending_. It isn't supposed to end like this for them. It's _not_. He can't give up without a fight.

Katara pauses.

Her head spins as she pulls a knife from her robes and slices a shallow line along the Fire Prince's shoulder _; Made in Earth Kingdom_ is the inscription that faces her as she does. The moon is not full - she would never have been able to find his blood if she could not feel it directly; it only barely oozes forth, but when Katara presses her palm to the incision and allows fluid to seep through her fingers, it responds to her call. It is like following the pipes in the ship. Zuko is a million pathways of water.

She bends it through his veins.

It's sluggish. Whatever is damaged inside stabs with every attempt to inhale, and her vision is darkening around the edges, there is iron in her mouth but she has never given up on the people she loves and she is not starting with _him_.

"Wake up," she mumbles. She forces his lungs to expand. She squeezes - too hard - on his heart. _Tearbending._ "Please wake up-"

-the cut starts to flow the way it should, the way it does if there is a muscle pumping in his chest.

Zuko's eyes snap open. "Katara?"

She has time for one weak smile before she passes out.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lovely fan art based on this chapter](http://thepaintedladyx.deviantart.com/art/The-Sparrowkeet-Series-Duels-of-Honour-Part-2-319852266), courtesy of ThePaintedLadyx.

**Author's Note:**

> Some lovely [fan art](http://ziggyfish.deviantart.com/art/she-waits-and-she-waits-279250568) based on this chapter, courtesy of ziggyfish.


End file.
